Rude Awakening at the Third Hour

I know, wrong game, but the name was appropriate, all things considered.

( And now, click for the cavalcade of abject stupidity. )

In other news, my dad e-mailed me. It's sad when all I can say about that is that he doesn't use capitalisation or punctuation. Makes you wonder where I get it from.

Addendum

( Edit! )

God, I'm tired. I owe another thousand words at least tonight. I'm on schedule, basically, but 14,000 words must be written by the end of tonight. That's if I can do anything but fall over this evening.

Late because of public transport. Forgot my watch. No one told me where my meeting this morning was supposed to be so I went to her office whereas she came to mine. Tapes containing clinic letters coming in a couple of hours.

But on the other hand, I have sugar. So it can't be all that bad.

A Sense of Duty

14,470 / 50,000 (28.9%)

I might have done some work on the NaNoWriMo thing at work, when I still had some energy, except the disc I put the current draft on only sat in the disc drive and went "ka-chunk-ka-chunk-ka-chunk vrrrrrrrrrr" when I tried to read it. Which just goes to show never trust a disc that's been lying on the floor for an indeterminate amount of time. So I resolved to make sure I got up to 14,000 words when I got home.

Except there wasn't much sleep last night. And then there was public transport hell. And then there was work, followed by more public transport hell. And then there was cooking. And then there was screaming bloody exhaustion.

And yet there are still over 14,000 words.

I'm a fucking loony.